


A Devil Of My Own

by Kat_inReverse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Domestic Violence, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 09:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20758058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_inReverse/pseuds/Kat_inReverse
Summary: Stiles isn’t really sure when it all got so out of hand.Aaron had been sweet at first. He made Stiles feel desired in a way he’d never felt before. He felt special for being chosen among all the others, as if the man’s affection was a prize that was sought after by the masses.He didn’t know how wrong he was.





	A Devil Of My Own

Stiles isn’t really sure when it all got so out of hand. 

Aaron had been sweet at first. He made Stiles feel desired in a way he’d never felt before. He felt special for being chosen among all the others, as if the man’s affection was a prize that was sought after by the masses. 

He didn’t know how wrong he was. 

They were happy at first. There were little things that rubbed him the wrong way and maybe he should have paid more attention to them, but he decided to move in with the man and ignore any worries he might have.

It was too soon and he hardly knew Aaron enough to take that leap, but he didn’t think he needed a plan in case the relationship didn’t work out. It all felt too magical to think about practicality at the time. 

But then, Aaron started to show aggression. 

Stiles always made excuses for it, lying to himself because he didn’t want to believe things weren’t as perfect as he’d built them up to be. He was used to hanging out with werewolves after all, they got a little angry sometimes and it was no big deal. Stiles had enough experience in a pack to know that werewolves tend to be physical, getting pushed around is normal there. Even when playing, they tend to be a little rough with him. So, when Aaron began pushing him around when they were arguing, he thought it was okay. He thought it was something he could handle. He could handle werewolves and other supernaturally strong creatures, he could handle a human.

it could have been worse and he knew it. 

It did get worse. 

Hiding the bruises from the pack became second nature. He was so good at half-truths and skating around the question that he never worried about getting caught in a lie. 

Logically, he knew he should reach out for help if he was that concerned about the pack finding out about the bruising. If he knew enough to keep it a secret, he had to know it was a problem. 

Aaron was always so gentle after. He apologized and brought gifts and made Stiles feel as cared for as he always wanted. He’d promise it would never get so bad again, that he would never hurt Stiles again. 

But the bad times would come again and he’d make it known that no one could ever care for Stiles like he did. No one would ever see his good qualities, no one would bother to dig below the surface of sarcasm and snark to love him. 

Stiles wanted to argue, to push that no one was as unlovable as the other man tried to make him feel. _Someone_ would inevitably give him a shot, there was someone out there for everyone. Or, at least that’s what he wanted to believe. But the more Aaron brought him down, the less he believed his own reassurances. The evidence was there, Stiles had never been asked out before, he was a social outcast throughout all of high school, his ADHD and general lack of a filter had been enough cause to ensure he only had one friend for most of his life. Why would anyone want to be with him?

Aaron may not have known about werewolves or how he’d made the friends that he has now, but he was spot on in twisting it to fit his deception. He’d gone to a few pack gatherings, Stiles had only called it a movie night or a barbecue with friends at the time, but he’d managed to learn a vague story of how they all met. Minus the supernatural mess that bonded them all of course. 

He learned that most of the pack had met through mutual friends, they had formed their own friendships and they managed to become tangled enough that they started hanging out in a larger group. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were Derek’s friends first, Lydia and Allison became friends with Erica, Kira was dating Malia who was Peter’s daughter, and Peter hung around for Derek and Cora-who was dating Lydia. Jackson and Parrish were also Derek’s friends, Liam and the others were Scott’s friends, Isaac and Derek were good friends with Scott. 

It seemed they all had interwoven ties to each other and all Stiles had was his friendship with Scott, which had become strained on and off over the years, or at least he felt it had. He was concerned that he’d been clingy after Scott got a little too busy to spend all of his free time with him. The boy had other friends, Stiles had to more accepting of that. Plus, he did hang out with the rest of the pack occasionally, it’s not like he had _no one_, they’d all become close friends. Or at least, he believed they were until Aaron got in his head. 

They were only friends with him because they had to be. They wanted Scott, no one could resist his lopsided smile. it would never be Stiles. No one would ever choose Stiles, of that much he was becoming certain of. 

Stiles learned quickly that Aaron hated the pack gatherings, he always found some excuse to be angry and Stiles had to pay the price. Stiles would always cringe away from the inevitable screaming and the degrading and the punishing blows, but he knew he deserved it all. He wasn’t good enough, he would never be good enough. 

When he thought he’d had enough, that being alone was far better than being with Aaron, he tried to end the relationship and move out of the apartment. But Aaron didn’t allow it, he taught Stiles a lesson that night, if he ever tried to leave again he wouldn’t live through it. The man no longer reeled Stiles in with kindness and declarations of love, Stiles was stuck with the fear of what would happen if he tried to leave again. 

So he gave up. He drifted away from the pack, making excuses when his friends wanted to hang out with him. He used the distance he created as evidence of their disinterest, proving Aaron right in his mind, when really they were trying to let him go through the honeymoon phase that they thought he was in. 

Aaron loved how disconnected Stiles had become from everyone around him. It gave Stiles more time to be with him, and Aaron loved that. He had his hooks in deep, twisting and molding Stiles into his perfect plaything. 

Stiles begged one night to go to a party his friends were throwing. He hadn’t seen any of them in at least a month or so, he’d been locked away in the apartment for all of his free time and it was making him crazy. He was shocked when the man finally agreed, mostly to shut him up Stiles knew, but he was excited nonetheless. 

“I don’t even know why you want to go, none of them really like you y’know,” Aaron said, hardly taking his eyes off the road as he said it, as if he was merely commenting on the weather. 

While the reminder dimmed his excitement somewhat, Stiles didn’t let it deter him. Sure he might not be their first choice, but they were nice to him nonetheless. They were his only friends, even if it might have been one-sided, and he needed social interaction outside of Aaron for once. “I know, I just- I like spending time with them. I haven’t really been able to talk to people in a while. I’ve been so cooped up inside lately, I could really use a night out,” he sighed, perking up as they pulled into the driveway of the Hale house. 

Aaron turned to look at him then, Stiles’ eyes widened a bit in fear at the familiar twitch of irritation, “You talk to me all the time, you never shut up actually. What, I’m not good enough for you now?” 

Stiles’ eyes widened, shaking his head quickly, “no, no. That’s not- That’s not what I meant. I love talking to you. You’re more than enough for me. Too good for me even, I just- I haven’t really been allowed out in a while. And I really miss talking to my friends, I didn’t mean to upset you. Honest,” Stiles said, hoping his rambling explanation was enough to placate the easily angered man. 

To his relief, Aaron smiled at him, cupping his cheek in an almost too firm grip as he sighed, “what am I going to do with you hmm?” He pulled Stiles into a kiss, the boy responding as he always did. Almost robotic, somewhat lacking passion and any feeling. He couldn’t refuse, Aaron wouldn’t allow that, but if he _seemed_ like he was trying to participate, the man didn’t usually make much of a fuss. 

They both stepped out of the car and approached the door, Stiles always slightly behind the other and following his lead. He beamed in excitement when the door was thrown open and Scott dragged him into a bear hug, “Stiles! Where have you been dude? We miss you,” his best friend asked, nodding at Aaron politely over Stiles’ shoulder. Scott never did like Aaron, no one did, but they were all operating under the impression that Stiles loved him. So they were civil and polite, for Stiles’ sake.

Stiles had to count the seconds in his head for physical contact or else he’d get in trouble for prolonged hugging, the rule was beaten into him over time, he rarely broke it. He stepped back, breaking the hug and leaning into Aaron as the man threw a possessive arm around his waist, “Sorry man, you know how writing can get. I’m so blocked, I can barely reach my daily minimum and everything I come up with lately is crap. I haven’t been able to leave the house in a long time,” he said, hoping the last sentence would catch Scott’s attention, but as usual the hint went right over his head. 

Scott just nodded with a small smile, “Of course man, we understand. Well, come on in, pizza is almost here, let me make you guys some drinks,” he offered, Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Aaron gave him a subtle squeeze. He snapped it shut and allowed Aaron to lead him forward into the house. 

“Stiles will just have some water. I on the other hand, will take whatever you’re having,” Aaron answered, cranking up the charm among his friends. He always did, as if he wanted to befriend them instead of complaining about them to Stiles every time they went out. 

The lack of response from Stiles made Scott look between the two in confusion before shrugging it off and heading to the kitchen. Stiles inclined his head toward the living room where familiar laughter rang out. He wanted to walk right in and say hello, but Aaron had once scolded him about how emasculating and embarrassing it had been to follow along behind _Stiles_ like a lost puppy. Stiles had tried to convince the man that nobody thought into it as much as he did, but he wasn’t having it. 

Aaron took the hint though and guided them into the room with his fakest smile, they greeted everyone pleasantly. Stiles counted out each hug, making sure none lasted more than three seconds for fear of a reaction. His greeting to Derek was extra short, as much as it pained him, Aaron didn’t like him interacting much with Derek. He almost panicked when Erica clung to him and whined about how little she’d seen of him lately, he patted her back and fed her the same excuse he gave Scott before he managed to extract himself from her hold and plant himself back in Aaron’s side. He looked up at him with barely concealed worry, but thankfully he didn’t seem angry.

Scott returned then with their drinks and offered them the good armchair to share, he didn’t move towards it until Aaron gave the okay and sat first. Stiles wedged himself in, half on the man’s lap, and made sure he was on his best behavior. His friends were eyeing him as if they were half convinced he was acting strangely, but when the alternative is to break Aaron’s rules and never see them again, Stiles chose to seem a little odd instead. 

Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good time. He wasn’t exactly _carefree_ but it was the most at ease he’d felt in a long while. He did lose himself occasionally, too caught up in the pleasantness of catching up with his friends that he forgot the rules. He accidentally cut Aaron off when the man opened his mouth to speak, Stiles couldn’t help it. The joke came to his mind unexpectedly. With so many people in one room, people often got cut off, but no one took it as an insult as much as his boyfriend did. 

Hidden from view, Aaron gripped a bit of what little meat he had on his hip and pinched hard. Stiles straightened up and forced a laugh at the next joke he barely heard someone say, acting as normal as possible as the lycans in the room twitched their noses at the sour scent of pain. Aaron didn’t let go until he was satisfied, it was only a warning, Stiles should have known better. 

“Would you like another drink?” Stiles asked, voice low between them, his way of apologizing as best he could in a room full of people. It earned him a slight smile though, and a nod of approval. He took the empty cup into the kitchen, hoping to find it empty so he could deal with the ache in his side. 

To his relief, the kitchen was actually empty. He set the cup down and grabbed a handful of ice in a towel to hold against the skin he knew was slowly bruising. Even with how subtle he tried to be about it, if anyone came in, there was only so much he could say about holding ice to his side. 

“What are you doing?”

Stiles yelped at the new voice, cracking his eyes open to see Derek standing with pizza boxes piled high in his arms. “Hmm? I’m making Aaron a drink, clearly,” he said, laughing nervously as he dropped the towel of ice behind him and got to work preparing that drink. 

Derek didn’t drop the subject. He placed the boxes of pizza on the counter before coming round to stand beside Stiles, just hovering there as he searched. 

He wasn’t clueless. He knew Derek was scanning him for visual signs of danger as well as scenting him for possible trouble, the smell of blood, fear, or pain was usually a good indicator. Stiles hoped the general smell of anxiety that constantly surrounded him was strong enough to block it all and he never had bruises in places that could be seen so easily. 

“You haven’t been yourself lately. I just need you to know that I’m here. You know you can talk to me,” Derek said, giving up on his scanning in favor of speaking. He placed a gentle hand on Stiles’ arm, forcing the boy to look up into those gorgeous tricolored eyes. He could see the worry in them, the wolf was never this open, his expression so vulnerable as he tried to let Stiles in and see into the boy as well. 

The two had gotten closer over the years. Long sessions of research and strategizing-and saving each other’s asses in life or death situations-had really bonded them. Their relationship grew from the strained, survival necessity partnership to an actual friendship. Stiles was grateful for Derek, he’d been a great friend. And if Stiles never lost that little crush he’d always had, well, who could blame him.

Derek had grown sweet over the years, still snarky and occasionally an asshole, but caring and gentle with his pack. He’d gone from the angry militant leader to a real teacher, understanding of faults and pushing not because he demanded perfection, but because he knew their full potential. Stiles admired this Derek, it turned his initial crush into full blown feelings. 

He almost told Derek then and there, how trapped and scared he was. He’d help, so what if Stiles was alone forever. Maybe Aaron would stay away if he spoke up now. He had a whole pack to care for him if he needed it. 

But he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t inconvenience them like that. This was his own burden to bear. He shook his head, “Yeah, I know Der. But I’m fine, really. If I need to talk, I’ll let you know,” he reassured, heart possibly blipping but he was hardly lying, he didn’t really need to talk. There wasn’t much they could discuss. 

There was a hint of movement and Stiles glanced over the man’s shoulder, his eyes widened in fear when he saw Aaron’s angry face. He ripped his arm out from under Derek’s hand so fast it was almost as if he’d been burned, he hastily threw another shot into the rum and coke he was making and hurried around Derek to hand the drink over to Aaron. “H-Hey babe, sorry about the wait, I couldn’t find the rum,” he lied, which was obvious because there was a whole section on the counter filled with different types of liquor. 

Aaron stared at him for a few seconds, making Stiles itch in anticipation. Eventually, he took the drink and gulped it down quickly before pushing it back into Stiles’ chest harshly, “another.” 

Stiles nodded obediently, hurrying back around Derek and avoiding the quizzical stare he was getting. He couldn’t look at Derek again, it would only make it worse. Especially because Aaron didn’t leave this time, he stood beside Stiles and poured himself several shots. It was freaking Stiles out, he knew Aaron was angry, it was worse knowing that he wouldn’t know how much trouble he was in until they were home. The most he could do now is remain quiet and submissive for the rest of the night. 

He offered up the new drink silently, a little relieved that Aaron took it. Without another word, Aaron walked back into the living room where the rest of the party was and Stiles hurried to follow. He turned to offer Derek a small smile, ignoring the suspicion in the larger man’s eyes. That was a problem for another day. 

So, he sat silently in Aaron’s lap, anxious at the irritation in his friends’ eyes as they grew increasingly annoyed with his boyfriend getting drunker and drunker. He watched as the pack feasted on pizza, he wanted some, but Aaron pinched him again when Scott offered to get him a slice. He shook his head in answer and listened to his stomach rumble longingly. Aaron didn’t like him to have unnecessary calories. 

His boyfriend was a loud drunk, obnoxious and desperate for attention and convinced he was the most hilarious man on the planet. Stiles had to smile and force soft laughter every time the man laughed boisterously beside him. 

When Stiles was sure the man was killing the mood of the party, he checked his phone and feigned a loud sigh. “I’m sorry guys, we have to go. I… have to meet my deadline. You know how it is. No sleep for the terrible struggling author,” he laughed, tugging the drunken idiot that was his boyfriend up to his feet, “C’mon babe, hand me the keys, you’re in no shape to drive,” he said, wincing as the man pushed away from Stiles. 

“I will not. I’m fine. Look at me. I’m fine to drive,” he insisted, gesturing at his body as if the slight tilt would convince the boy of his sobriety. 

Stiles shook his head, embarrassed that the pack was silently watching the debacle, “Alright, alright c’mon,” he sighed, herding the man to the door with an arm around his waist, he snuck his hand into the man’s pocked and swiped the keys without much more fight. He was so going to be in trouble when he got home, he tried to steel himself for the inevitable. 

The drive was quick when he finally managed to get Aaron into the passenger side. He wasn’t happy about it, but he only fought for so long before he gave in. He was scary silent on their way up to the apartment, it made Stiles itch anxiously as they passed through hallways and rode the elevator without speaking a word. 

Once they were safely inside and the door was shut behind them, Aaron stopped walking, Stiles was only a step behind him, “I’m so sorry. I-”

Aaron cut him off with a quick backhand to the cheek. His head whipped to the side with the blow and he held his cheek silently, shaking as he waited for what he was sure was to come. But Aaron didn’t say a word, he wandered further into the apartment and didn’t even glance at Stiles to see if he’d follow. 

Stiles could have run. He should have. He had the perfect opportunity to do so, Aaron could barely walk up the stairs, no way he’d be able to run after him fast enough. It would be the perfect getaway, but then what? Aaron would be after him eventually, angrier than ever most likely. There’s nowhere Stiles could go where he would be safe. He could go home to his father, but his dad worked so much that Stiles would be alone and vulnerable to some sort of assault no doubt. 

He couldn’t ask the pack to protect him, they wouldn’t understand. None of them are as weak as Stiles, they’d find helping him such a burden and he couldn’t have that. He felt like he was hanging on by a thread as it is. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing them because he was too much of a hassle. 

Logically, he knew it sounded insane. They were good people when they needed to be, they wouldn’t just abandon him when he needed them. But would the strain of protecting him prove too much? He didn’t think he was worth it, he wasn’t sure they’d care enough about him to do it if Aaron was to be believed. 

So, resigned to his punishment, he followed Aaron into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch nervously as he awaited the scolding and the punishment he had no doubt was coming. 

Aaron paced in front of him, shaking his head occasionally and glaring at him as he passed. Stiles hated the anticipation, he wanted to get it over with already. The sooner it started the sooner it would end. 

“I can’t believe you would disrespect me so carelessly in front of our friends, after everything I’ve done for you. Do you think it’s easy to support you? I’ve made it possible for you to pursue your career and yet you walk all over me,” the man said.

Stiles wanted to argue, Aaron was the one who coerced him into leaving his job. He promised they would be okay if Stiles wanted to become a full-time writer, he encouraged Stiles to follow his dream and not worry about the rest. Stiles had been so lovestruck at the time that he believed him. But Aaron used that as a means to guilt trip the boy every time he was angry. 

It worked. Stiles’ shoulders slumped as he stared at his knees, fight draining out of him and ashamed of the way he acted. It was true, Aaron supported him and allowed him to work on hie writing without having to work around his schedule. He had to be more careful about following the rules that were set. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-” He’d started, body somehow trying to collapse in on itself as he cringed and avoided looking at the other man. 

“You never think,” Aaron snapped, “Do you think I enjoy going to those parties? I give and I give and what do I get? An ungrateful little slut, whoring himself out for the world to use.” He was seething now, looming over Stiles like the large, menacing beast he was. 

Stiles was confused, “whoring myself out…?” He had been entirely faithful to Aaron during their whole relationship. He’d never done anything to warrant suspicion. 

Aaron was angered even more at his response, “don’t play dumb with me. I saw you flirting with Hale. He had his hands all over you, toying with you, it’s a game to him, you know. He’ll never want you, you’ll never be anything to a man like him, you’re nothing,” he sneered, looking Stiles over with such disgust on his face that Stiles could have been gum on the bottom of his shoe. 

“All over me? He touched my arm. We were only talking. That’s hardly adultery,” he forgot himself again. He spoke without thinking, always ready to defend Derek. It was like second nature to him now. He didn’t bother denying the other claims, he knew he’d never be anything to Derek. It was only pack scenting, nothing more, but he couldn’t exactly explain pack dynamics to the human. 

He flinched at Aaron’s blank expression, it was the calm before the storm. “Stand,” he said, and Stiles obeyed, he had no choice. 

The aftermath was severe. He’d been knocked to the floor with a few hard hits to the ribs. Once he was down, Aaron didn’t hesitate to kick him in all the places no one would ever see bruises. He was curled in a ball and enduring blow after blow to his back and thighs. Occasionally, he’d break through the protective barrier of Stiles’ arms and land a kick to the gut or ribs. It was agonizing, but he was used to this.

It was only when he was dragged up by the hair that he started to panic, “you want to be a slut for Hale hm?” Aaron asked, fumbling with the button of his pants. Stiles struggled in his grasp, trying to get the hand out of his hair to get away. Of all the tortures Aaron put him through, this was not one. If he took it without a fight now, it would become the new normal. And Stiles couldn’t have that, not yet. 

Aaron screamed at him then, more half-thought insults and derogatory names, abandoning his efforts at his pants for a moment to force Stiles to keep still. 

But he wouldn’t keep still. Stiles fought back, scratching and shoving the man away as hard as he could. It was not an easy task, Aaron was a lot bigger than him and muscular, but he was also drunk. 

Stiles hadn’t fought back in a long time. He used to shove the man back and leave him when he thought he was being mistreated, it was hard to believe that he slowly started to allow himself to get walked all over. 

There were no more off-limit zones for Aaron to hit when he got this angry. Stiles endured a blow that split his lip and a punch to the cheekbone that managed to knock his head into the coffee table. He was dazed for a moment, which allowed Aaron to start dragging his mostly limp body toward the bedroom. 

His hands were batting weakly at Aaron’s arms, barely scratching at whatever skin he could reach in his fear of what would come if he made it to the bedroom. He was so tired of being afraid, he was tired of feeling powerless and small. He just wanted it to stop. 

In his last ditch effort to escape, he played limp until Aaron thought he’d won. Then, as he walked around Stiles and bent to lift what he thought was going to be a limp body, Stiles kicked up into Aaron’s face hard and he stumbled backward. Stiles had to be fast, Aaron’s yelling in pain could only last so long. So, Stiles pushed himself up and tried to ignore how dizzy he was or the wetness he could feel on the side of his head. He stumbled toward the doorway and glanced behind him, regretting it quickly because Aaron was recovering quickly it seemed. 

The larger man spit out a mouthful of blood and Stiles winced, worried about causing the man pain and worried that it would make this so much worse if he lost. He ran from the room, only barely stumbling into a wall with his slight impairment. Aaron was hot on his heels and Stiles needed something to defend himself quick. He had only moments to decide, he barely had time to grab the lamp on a side table in the living room and swing it around to break it over Aaron’s head. 

The man fell to the floor with a heavy thump and Stiles stood frozen, unsure what his next move was going to be. His primary concern had been to stop the attack. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself now that it had stopped, if only for a moment. He knew he still had to run, but to where, who did he call? 

His phone was already in his hand as he ran to the bedroom, trying to be quick as he grabbed his readily prepared backpack from the closet and shoved his laptop inside. He felt silly doing it, taking that extra second to gather something as unimportant as his laptop. But he didn’t know what was coming or if Aaron would ever hand over his property without destroying it first. His laptop contained all of his work, that was more important to him than having an extra few seconds of running away time. 

The phone hadn’t even finished ringing when he ran out of the apartment, casting only a quick look over at Aaron on the living room floor. He knew the man would only be down for a little while longer, Stiles needed to be far from here when he woke. 

“Hello?” Asked the voice on the other end, confused but thankfully awake. 

Stiles almost cried at just the sound of his voice, “Derek,” he breathed, and his voice betrayed him with a soft crack. “I- I need help,” he said quietly, barely audible over the no doubt heavy breathing and pounding of his feet. 

Derek was ready for action immediately it seemed, “where are you? I’m on my way. Are you somewhere safe?” Stiles could hear the jingling of keys and the sound of doors slamming on the other end. 

“I’m- I don’t know. I just started running. Meet me at that park? You know the one.” He was still breathing heavily although he stopped running once he’d turned a few corners. The park was their rendezvous point in case of emergency. They had a few, but the park was used most frequently. 

The adrenaline was wearing off then, he felt everything again, he was limping heavily as he hurried into an alleyway. “Everything hurts. I’m so- I’m scared,” he whispered, ready to break down then and there but there was no time, he needed to make it to the park. The park meant safety. 

He heard the roar of an engine on the line, Derek was a fast driver. It couldn’t take long now. “I’ll be there in less than ten minutes, everything is going to be okay Stiles. What hurt you? What are you afraid of? Is there a threat in town?”

Stiles stumbled across a street and through another back alley, “No, no there’s no new supernatural threat. Everyone is fine. I think. It’s just- me,” he sighed, still a little unwilling to explain everything that had happened to him. “I’ve been weak. All of this happened because one stupid human man scares me more than any supernatural creature could. I’ve been _possessed_ and still, Aaron is worse,” he mumbled, stepping into a patch of woods that would lead him directly into the park after a short walk. 

There was silence on the other end, and then growling so deep and loud Stiles thought it might have come from right beside him. “I’m gonna kill him for ever laying a hand on you. I knew he wasn’t right for you, but I never thought- Stiles why didn’t you tell me he was hurting you? I would have been there for you,” Derek sighed, and Stiles hated to hear the pain in his voice. 

“I don’t know. He said… I thought- I didn’t want to burden you all. I thought I could handle it,” he sighed, “I know now that I wasn’t strong enough.” 

Derek growled again, “Stiles it doesn’t matter if you were strong enough. He never should have hurt you in the first place. You are not a burden. You are a vital part of the pack, we couldn’t function without you,” Derek explained, and tires squealed as he spoke, Stiles could only expect it was a rough turn or a quick stop. 

Stiles was halfway through the woods, jumping at every stray snap of a twig as he walked. Terrified that Aaron would somehow know where to find him. “I appreciate you trying to cheer me up Der, but I know that’s a lie. I haven’t been allowed to go to pack stuff for a long while and it didn’t exactly seem like the pack was falling apart without me,” he said, he wasn’t angry about it, his tone conveyed that, it was as if he was only stating the facts. He’d been so thoroughly brainwashed by the man that it was hard to believe he was anything more than worthless. 

“We were giving you space. They all know what a new relationship feels like, they wanted to be understanding of you spending all of your time with him. If any of them had known there was something wrong, we wouldn’t have stopped until you were safe,” Derek explained, trying to convince Stiles of how worried they’d all been for a while now. 

Stiles was nodding slowly at the response, until he remembered Derek couldn’t see him, “yeah. I guess I could see them doing something like that,” he mumbled, not truly believing, but not denying the claim either. 

Derek didn’t seem satisfied with the response, “we all just wanted you to be happy. We _thought_ you were happy,” he sighed, Stiles could hear the disappointment in his voice already. Not at Stiles, but with himself. Stiles didn’t respond, he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t happy, but he wanted them to believe he was. He couldn’t fault them for falling for it. 

He’d finally made it across the small wooded area, it wasn’t a long walk, and he sat down on the bench there with a soft grunt of pain. “I’m at the park now, are you near?” He asked, looking over his shoulder nervously and jumping at every unexpected noise.

“close. A few more minutes,” the man answered, Stiles allowed himself to take a deep calming breath and relax for the first time. He still felt like Aaron was hot on his heels, but he allowed a moment to believe that Derek would be there soon to make everything better. 

It wasn’t long after that he saw headlights in the parking lot nearby, it was too dark to see the model but the car parked haphazardly in a few spaces. It’s owner didn’t bother turning the car off before heading directly for him. “Is that you? That was fast, I thought you’d be longer,” Stiles said. 

He could only see a silhouette, but the man heading toward him wasn’t holding a hand to his ear. No phone, not Derek. 

“I’m still a minute away. Are you okay?” Derek asked, “is someone else there?” 

Stiles was too late to panic. By the time he realized it wasn’t Derek, he had no time to run. The phone clattered beside him on the bench and he forgot about it completely in his fear, “Aaron- Aaron please. Just let me go. I just want to go home. I want to see my dad,” he pleaded, tears welling in his eyes as he realized that he would never be free. 

“Your dad huh? So you can lie to the sheriff and tell him how awful you think I am. No. I will not get arrested because you’re too weak to handle a punishment,” Aaron growled, lunging at Stiles and dodging the kick the boy aimed at his face yet again. He didn’t bother going for more hits, his hands went straight for the neck and squeezed. 

Stiles choked and wheezed for breath, hitting and scratching at Aaron’s arms and his face. Desperate to wound him somehow to get him to let go. Nothing worked. He weakly jabbed at eyeballs and tried to kick out at the man but his strength was failing him. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He realized he could vaguely hear Derek calling his name on the phone that was strewn on the bench.

It was only as his vision was flickering in and out that he heard another car squeal into the parking lot. He realized it was Derek when the hands were ripped away from his neck and he finally had the ability to breathe through coughing fits.

When he was recovered enough to look over at the brawl, he was shocked to find Derek was actually in wolf shift. Aaron was screaming “What the fuck” and trying to fight off a practically feral looking wolf snarling and snapping at the man. Derek bit down on the arm that swung at him, drawing blood and forcing a scream out of the man that only got worse when the wolf bit down and shook his head about. 

Derek bit and ripped Aaron’s limbs, anywhere that struck out at him or got close enough to his mouth to attack. The wolf went for an ankle, making the man fall over. 

And then he went for the throat. 

Stiles was still in shock when the screaming turned to a surprisingly loud gurgling of blood. He watched, numb, as Aaron’s body slowly stopped twitching and moving and Derek shifted back beside him. 

He barely felt the way Derek’s hands glided lightly over his face and over his neck, assessing the damage done, he knew he must have been a mess after the night he had. He turned his face away, instinctively trying to hide evidence from the extra attention. 

“C’mon, let’s get you in the car,” Derek said softly, as if he was trying not to spook the boy. 

Once Stiles was seated safely in the car, he tried to avoid looking as Derek pulled on his clothes again and watched curiously as the man pulled what looked like a whiskey bottle from the trunk and dumped some of the contents over Aaron’s lifeless body and cleaned his prints off with a rag before leaving the bottle there as evidence, covering their tracks Stiles supposed. Although it seemed unnecessary. 

Leaving the car on and the door open the way it was, with the bottle at his feet, plus the autopsy would no doubt show how drunk he was, it would seem as though Aaron drove himself to the park to drink some and an animal attacked him. Stiles and Derek would be free and clear, with no evidence of their involvement whatsoever. 

It would also help that his father would no doubt mark the case as solved without doing much research on the matter. He’d know it was Derek, but he would turn a blind eye where Stiles’ protection was concerned. Not that he would be able to prove it /wasn’t/ a wolf if he wanted to, they’d have a hard time criminalizing Derek in a situation he had very little to do with. 

Stiles hardly noticed they were driving away at first. Derek was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying past the ringing in his ears. His mind was still reeling, he hardly felt like he was breathing at all until he found himself in Derek’s loft, clutching his backpack to his chest with a steel grip as the man tried to get him to sit and have a moment to rest. 

“Just try to relax Stiles, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you. I need you to tell me what hurts,” Derek was being so gentle with him, fingers so hesitant and soft as they traveled down his arms and fingers checking for broken bones. 

Stiles didn’t answer, trying to take a mental survey, “everything hurts,” he mumbled, it was the best he could do after the adrenaline was wearing off once again and he was beginning to feel even more aches and pains than he originally thought.

The other man just looked relieved Stiles finally said something, “you’ll have to be more specific Stiles. I can’t help you if I don’t know exactly what’s hurting.”

“Nothing feels broken,” he specified, “but my head is killing me.” His eyes flicked around nervously as if he was afraid Aaron would be lurking around any corner. 

Derek was gone for a moment, Stiles didn’t see him go, but then he was back with first aid supplies and he found himself laughing hysterically at Derek owning antibacterial spray. “You’re a werewolf. Your body probably fights off foreign bacteria in a millisecond. Why do you own that?” He asked, ignoring the way his face throbbed where Derek was wiping him clean of blood. He didn’t know why he found it so funny, it wasn’t, not really. 

“Because you’re a human who insists on tagging along in dangerous situations,” Derek replied, he did tend to come along to supernatural fights when it might not have been in his best interest, “plus, you alway had random cuts where you scraped sticks or fallen during training, I got the spray a while ago. When you still came.” 

Stiles felt his face fall at the reminder, he’d really distanced himself from the pack lately. He couldn’t believe they’d still let him come back after dropping so many pack responsibilities, but that’s what family did. He had to remind himself that they would always forgive him no matter what, despite everything that Aaron convinced him was true. 

There was talking again, but Stiles was stuck in his own head. His thoughts raced and his vision blurred, still clutching his backpack to his body like a shield to keep him safe. Logically he knew we was safe, the threat was gone and he was always safe with Derek, but he hadn’t let his guard down in ages and after everything he’d experienced tonight, it was difficult to let go. 

Deaton was there when he focused again. He was speaking lowly, shining a light in his eyes and making him track a finger. Stiles knew the drill enough that he barely had to be aware of his actions. He’d fallen so many times as a kid that made Melissa give him a cautionary check, and “fallen” a lot more to warrant getting checked when Aaron actually got worried that he’d hit his head too hard. 

The vet stitched up the wound on the side of his head and spoke softly with Derek, Stiles was just glad he didn’t have to go to the hospital. Sure, he could have gotten proper documentation for domestic violence, but Aaron was dead, he didn’t need to build a case to put him away. Getting a quick stitch up from Deaton was good enough for him. 

It was only after Deaton had left and Derek was just sitting beside him with an arm wrapped around him and rubbing his shoulder so softly, that he relaxed and let the tension in his body flow out of him. He was ashamed of the tears that began to spill out, now that his body had stopped holding itself unnaturally stiff, and curled into the other man’s side to tremble softly.

The backpack had slipped from his fingers, or Derek had finally pulled it free from his grasp, and he found himself cradled to a firm chest. It was calming. He cried for as long as he needed to, and occasionally felt laughter bubble up out of him from the overwhelming relief. He was a mess, and Derek held him through it. 

He cursed when he finally pulled away and Derek’s shirt had a giant wet spot of tears and probably snot, “crap, sorry about that,” he mumbled, wiping gently at his eyes and wincing at the tender swelling over one eye. 

Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ arm and black veins crawled up his forearm, easing the pain of his bruising body and throbbing head considerably. “Why don’t you stay here for a while. I’ll get your things from that apartment when… well when it’s time,” Derek offered, and Stiles winced at the thought of going back there. He knew what Derek was saying without needing the explanation, he’d get Stiles’ things when the police discover the body and close the case. 

“Thank you, I won’t stay too long, I can find a place of my own soon… when the thought of being alone and vulnerable doesn’t make me want to panic,” Stiles sighed, he thought he might be at Derek’s for a long while if that was the case. 

Derek just nodded understandingly, “of course. Stay as long as you need. There’s no rush. We have a guest bedroom, or you can stay in mine if you don’t feel safe. I want to take care of you,” the older man said, which made Stiles feel at least a little better knowing he had support, “Do you think you can tell me about it? So I know how to help?” 

Stiles chewed on his lip at the question, the side that wasn’t already split at least. It made him nervous to talk about, he was ashamed of how he allowed himself to be so stuck in that situation. “It just got out of hand. He wasn’t like this when we met. He just wanted to take care of me and I really enjoyed it, at the time I was desperate for that feeling. I was in a bad place, I felt invisible. All I did was take care of the pack and it felt like no one was taking the time to take care of _me_,” he explained, taking the time to figure out what he was going to say next. 

“We all care about you very deeply, you must know that,” Derek interjected, sounding guilty in a way Stiles knew well. Derek was already blaming himself for neglecting his friends. 

“I know, I just… I don’t know, it’s different. He made me feel special, I just wanted to be someone’s number one priority you know? It was stupid,” he sighed, “When he found out I was struggling to keep my apartment, he asked me to move in and quit my job to focus on writing like I wanted. It felt like magic for a while, he was still caring and sweet, I finally felt like someone could actually love me,” he went on, quickly continuing when Derek opened his mouth to comment again, “But… when he knew I had nowhere else to go, he started to pick fights about little things. They got progressively more physical. At first I thought: he just doesn’t realize his strength, he doesn’t mean to hurt me, or he’s just angry, he doesn’t mean it. Every time I left, he begged me to come home, I mean, the man was a wreck, I didn’t think he could be that good of an actor, so he must have really missed me. Or so I thought.” 

Derek took the hint and kept silent this time, rubbing his hand soothingly over Stiles’ back and presumably taking his pain here and there. 

Stiles soldiered on, “I don’t know when it got to the point where I stopped leaving and he stopped pretending to be sorry. Then, the… the abuse became punishments for my failings. I wasn’t following his rules, he did so much for me and I couldn’t even follow simple rules that would make life easier for us both. He made me feel like I deserved the punishments, he convinced me that the reason no one loved me was because I couldn’t follow rules, or I wasn’t thin enough, or I was too opinionated, or I never had dinner ready on time. It was always something.”

The other man had to cut him off then, “Stiles. You didn’t deserve any of that. No one does. You didn’t owe that man unfailing obedience for living in his apartment, that’s not what a healthy relationship looks like. You deserve someone who wants you to follow your dreams because it would make you happy, not because he wanted to control your life and mold you into his perfect vision of a househusband,” Derek said.

He knew it was true, but it was a hard concept to wrap his mind around after such a long time convincing himself of Aaron’s logic. 

But still, he couldn’t find it in him to let go of certain things he’d always known to be true, “I should’ve known things were too perfect to be real from the start. I’m no Lydia Martin, or Jackson, or Isaac, or Scott, or you, all you pretty perfect people who get worshipped by their partners. I’m just- I’m average, I should’ve known he was full of it,” he said, snorting bitterly down at his hands. It was so obvious in hindsight. He never should have fallen for _that_ con. 

“Stiles. What are you talking about? You’re beautiful. But regardless of that, listen to me very carefully, your looks do not dictate your worth alright? Everyone deserves a normal, loving relationship. You should never have to settle because you think that’s all you’re worth,” Derek said, his tone slightly scolding but not in a way that frightened him. 

Once again, Derek made sense. But it didn’t mean Stiles was going to be quick to accept it. He was frowning, trying to think up logical reasons how Derek could be wrong, but none came to mind so quickly. Well, plenty came to mind, but none that passed the sort of logical reasoning that was probably necessary to convince the werewolf. 

Derek took his silence for what it was, Stiles’ reluctance to agree. He sighed, heart heavy that he had to explain this to the boy. He tilted Stiles’ chin up with one finger and made him meet his eyes, “Stiles, you’re beautiful. From the tip of your nose and across your speckled cheeks, to your amber eyes and broad shoulders, you’re so incredibly beautiful that it hurts me to know you don’t see yourself as I do. You deserve to be happy more than anyone else I know.” 

Stiles was fidgety at the closeness, and the compliments, and the expectant look Derek was still giving him. “Alright- alright yeah, everyone deserves to be happy I guess,” he mumbled, watering down the sentiment stubbornly, “you’re just saying that because you have to. I’m your friend and I’ve been through a lot, you can’t exactly tell me how average I look,” he joked, or at least, it was meant to be a joke, it didn’t sound as playful as he intended. 

The look Derek gave him was no nonsense. It almost frightened him, he was used to a much meaner man giving him that look. But he wasn’t scared of Derek, hadn’t really been afraid of him since he was sixteen years old. This was the face of a man who truly believed what he said and would take no arguments claiming otherwise. He wouldn’t stand for Stiles’ stubbornness here, anywhere else maybe, but not when discussing something as important as this.

Derek truly found him beautiful. He tried not to let it get to his head. Friends can find other friends beautiful, he knew that. He found all of his friends beautiful. He had to assume Derek meant it platonically. 

Still, platonically or otherwise, it felt nice to know that someone found him attractive. Especially someone as gorgeous as Derek. “Thank you,” he mumbled quietly, taking the compliment sincerely instead of deflecting as he was known to do. 

Derek seemed placated by his acceptance, Quiet as he held Stiles and continued to rub his back and take the pain from his aching body whenever it reared its head again. 

“He made me feel so small and powerless,” Stiles admitted, after the silence brought it out of him. He was embarrassed about his own weakness. It felt like a ridiculous problem to complain to Derek about. The man was a werewolf, he had probably never felt weak in his life. How could he understand what Stiles was going through? This was a problem he’d have to learn to cope with on his own. 

The man only held him closer, “I know how that can feel. But you’re strong Stiles, the strongest member of our pack. Most humans would have crumbled under the weight of everything that you’ve been through and yet you were always as upbeat as ever, running head first into dangerous situations without a second thought. Don’t let that insignificant little man dim that spark in you.” 

Stiles felt a wave of bitterness rise up in him at that. How would Derek know what he’s feeling? It felt fake, as if he was only saying what he thought Stiles needed to hear. He opened his mouth to question it, but then he saw that same haunted look in Derek’s eyes, struggling with the same old ghosts that he’d always had. 

His mouth snapped shut as it clicked in his mind. 

Kate. 

The bitterness died down at the realization. Derek knew exactly how he felt. He understood more than anyone just how small and powerless Stiles felt. Derek must have felt the same. She may not have left physical scars, but the product of her wickedness still plagued him and it always would. 

He let his head rest on Derek’s shoulder then, bitterness long forgotten as he heaved a sigh, “I _have_ crumbled though. He broke me. I stopped fighting back, I stopped caring about what happened to me. I let him win.” 

“You didn’t stop though, not really. It took a while, but you’re here aren’t you? You fought him off one last time.” Derek’s voice was quiet as he pet his fingers through Stiles’ hair, “I don’t think he won. He lost actually. Or is that someone else’s body laying on the park floor?” 

Stiles winced at the memory, feeling a little guilty that someone had to lose their life because of him. Derek could see right through him though, or maybe he just smelled the guilt, “that’s not your fault Stiles. If you want to blame someone, blame me, but he deserved what he got. All I did was take back the life he was stealing from you, I stand by what I did,” Derek said, “He got what was coming to him. Sooner or later it would have come on its own.”

“It’s not my fault,” Stiles repeated, making an effort to believe the words he was saying. It did seem to work a little. He could understand how the logic would follow, that Aaron deserved what happened to him, but it was far more difficult to really convince himself of it. He was still half certain he was the one in need of a proper punishment. 

But that was the bad thoughts. The ones he’d always fought with, that Aaron fed into with every passing insult and painful reminder of his place in their relationship. 

It was silent then, but it didn’t feel awkward. It was comforting. He yawned as the fatigue settled deep in his bones, “we should probably sleep… do you mind if I stay here for now? I can try for the guest bedroom tomorrow I just- I’d feel a lot better with you by my side tonight,” he said sheepishly, but Derek showed no signs of feeling put out by the request.

“Of course Stiles, sleep in here as long as you need,” Derek answered, standing then and rummaging through his drawers to find Stiles some pajamas that wouldn’t be too large on his shrunken frame. 

He was left there to change. Alone for the first time since the ordeal, it was as frightening as it was a relief. 

He sat in the silence for much longer than necessary. He’d barely gotten himself to stand and shed his layers when Derek had returned with water and what looked like pain killers. 

Stiles tried to pull the sweater over his head as fast as possible to hide the wreckage that was his body but Derek had already seen. The heartbreak on his face was plain as day. It was, frankly, shocking to see. Stiles hadn’t realized he’d be _that_ invested in his wellbeing. Sure he had to have cared deeply enough, but to have that much emotion over Stiles’ patchwork of bruises, both half healed and freshly made, was just confusing. 

He tried to convince himself that he just wasn’t used to seeing people care about him that much. Aaron hadn’t batted an eye at the state of his body unless it was to insult it for not being exactly as he wanted it to be. 

Stiles roughly pulled the pajama bottoms up over his bruised thighs and wanted to climb into bed without discussing it, but Derek was there faster than he could step away. His movement was sluggish and sore, it wasn’t too difficult for the man to catch him. 

Derek met his eyes before reaching out for the edge of the sweater he was wearing, silently asking for permission. Stiles said nothing, eyes downcast in shame and tense at the knowledge that Derek was going to see his biggest insecurities. 

The cold breeze over his skin was the first thing that registered to him. Then Derek’s gentle fingers tracing over the darkest of bruises, across the fading green ones, along the protrusion of his ribs and the knobs of his spine. 

He didn’t know when he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t hurt, Derek’s fingers were too gentle for that, but the embarrassment at being so on display was getting to him. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all Derek said, and the raw pain in his voice was almost tangible. 

Stiles’ eyes snapped open, face contorting in confusion, “sorry? For what? It wasn’t you.” He may have sounded a little grumpy in his response but it wasn’t aimed at Derek. He was upset at the mere reminder of what his body looked like lately. 

Derek hardly seemed to notice the tone he’d acquired, perhaps he was just too focused on the angry marks over Stiles’ body, or maybe he just didn’t mind the tone because he knew the boy needed an outlet. Either way, Stiles was a little grateful.

“I should have known something was off. You never smelled right, you acted completely unlike yourself when you were with him. I knew you smelled like pain and fear sometimes, but you always fall and hurt yourself somehow and I thought you were only afraid that we wouldn’t like the guy. It became the new normal for you to smell different. I thought you were with a nice human boy who could give you what you needed and instead… I’m so sorry,” Derek spoke as if he believed it was his fault somehow, that he was directly responsible for Stiles’ treatment. 

Stiles didn’t think he’d ever heard Derek’s voice sound so… hurt? All while being deceptively calm. It was unsettling to hear the guilt in his voice. His chest ached to make it better, but why, he couldn’t say. Derek had been the rock that kept him steady in recent years, maybe it was just alarming to see the man so filled with emotion because of him. 

“Der, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your job to monitor my wellbeing every day. I didn’t _want_ you to know, you can’t fault yourself for my own secrecy,” Stiles said, tugging his sweater back down because he felt too exposed to have this conversation with Derek looking at him like _ that_. 

The older man seemed angry at that, meeting Stiles’ eyes again with a shake of his head, “it _is_ my fault and it _is_ my responsibility to see to the wellbeing of the pack. I should never have let you go to that boy. I knew he was wrong for you, but I said nothing, I thought it was my own jealousy making me see what I wanted to see.” 

And that was the shocking bit. Jealousy? What could Derek have been jealous of. He refused to let himself entertain the idea that the man might have romantic feelings for him. The thought was absurd, why him of all people when Derek could have anyone? Part of him knew that denial might have been a lasting effect of Aaron’s lessons, he wasn’t sure he would think he was good enough for anyone at the moment. 

He didn’t let the shock of Derek’s statement stop him from arguing, “You couldn’t have stopped me if you tried. You know I wouldn’t have listened if I had my mind set on something. You’re not responsible for this, it’s not your fault. It’s his fault, and you're wasting your time arguing otherwise. Maybe you were jealous of someone taking away your pack, but jealous or not, you could have done nothing until _I_ was ready to ask for help. This one is on me, it was my responsibility to look out for myself and I did a bad job of it.”

“You did not do a bad job of it. You did the best that you were able to do. You stayed as strong as you could in an awful situation. I just- I should’ve been there,” Derek sighed, pulling Stiles’ too-thin frame into a gentle hug. 

Stiles melted into it, as much for Derek’s comfort as his own. “You came when I asked, that’s all that matters. You came when I finally had the strength to reach out.” 

Derek didn’t seem settled by that, but he didn’t argue. He was quiet when he finally released the boy from his hold and they went about climbing into bed without another word. Derek still looked guilty and Stiles knew he still looked haunted from the horrors of his life as of late. But they climbed into bed and shut off the lights, it felt strangely normal to be there beside the man. 

After what felt like an hour of silence but must have only been a few minutes, Derek sighed, “I didn’t mean I was jealous because he took away a member of my pack. I was jealous because he took _you_ away before I could- before I could wrap my head around how I felt about you,” he explained, voice quiet in the dark that surrounded them both. 

Stiles didn’t know what to say. He still wanted to argue, but he held in the urge. Fighting the insecurity that was bubbling up within him, “you… how do you feel about me?” He asked, he needed the confirmation, he had to hear Derek say it before he could allow himself to react. 

The silence was deafening, but eventually Derek spoke up again, “I was going to ask you out. I had made up my mind about it, but I kept pushing it off. I was at odds with my sexuality. I hadn’t fully accepted myself, but I knew that I liked you, I knew that you made me happy.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment, “you were going to ask me out?” He repeated, unable to wrap his mind around that thought. It didn’t seem possible, he subtly pinched himself to prove that he hadn’t actually fallen asleep yet. 

“Yes Stiles. I was. Eventually. When I gathered the confidence,” he said, and it almost sounded like Derek was smiling. Poking fun at his own insecurity. What Stiles wouldn’t give to see it. But his tone turned serious again, closed off and hard in the way Stiles knew so well, “But then _he_ found you, and you seemed so happy. I thought I missed my chance. I would have been content with that, as long as I knew you had someone who made you happy. I swear Stiles, if I knew what he was doing-”

Stiles cut him off there, as he’d done every time Derek tried to blame himself, “You didn’t know. It was my secret to tell. That’s that. I know that if I came to you sooner, you wouldn’t have hesitated to help me. So stop alright? Stop blaming yourself,” he was possibly a little more upset than was strictly necessary, but he didn’t want Derek to hurt because of him. They’ve both had enough pain to last a lifetime.

In the silence that followed, he took the time to actually think about what Derek had said. It was hard to comprehend, the man having any sort of romantic feelings for him seemed unfathomable. 

“So, you like me… Are you still going to ask me out?” Stiles asked curiously, unsure how he felt about the matter. It was too much too soon, but it also felt like he’d been waiting a century for the man to ask him out. 

“Eventually, yes. When the time is right,” Derek admitted. 

Stiles was both excited at the promise of _eventually_, and a little disappointed that it wasn’t happening now. Not that he felt ready to fall into another relationship at the moment anyway. 

Still, he knew Derek would be his forever. The thought was overwhelming and thrilling, both exhilarating and yet terrifying. 

“Good. If it makes you feel better, I promise that I won’t say no,” Stiles smiled, “But I do encourage taking the time to… gather your bearings before you ask. I may need the extra time,” he confessed. 

Derek was understanding, because of course he was. The man was perfect. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he hummed, but he didn’t sound upset by it. He was likely already expecting it.

“Not too long though,” Stiles cautioned, “I’m not swearing off men forever or anything. Just- some. I only need _some_ time,” he explained, unable to give a set amount of time until he was ready. _He_ didn’t even know that really, they’d have to just listen to their instincts. 

Stiles reached out then, taking Derek’s hand in his own and squeezing it gently. He said nothing though, concerned only with falling asleep with that bit of comforting contact.

__________

Morning was a nightmare. He was jolted awake at the crack of dawn by his phone ringing.

They’d found the body. 

Animals, they said, but still they questioned Stiles extensively to find out if there was foul play involved. And he’d had the perfect answer to every question. 

When they came to question him further in person, they took pictures of his bruising, with pity in their eyes and understanding for the poor boy who just needed to get away from the abuse. They chalked it up to an abusive drunk who went looking for his escaped victim and had an accident. 

It helped that he’d known the deputies for years, but then again they would never have guessed that it was a werewolf who dealt the killing blow. It was a quick case. 

His father finding out was a bit tougher, he’d seen all the pictures, he was so hurt Stiles had never come to him for help. But he was nothing but understanding when Stiles had explained. He was terrified, he couldn’t put his father at risk, he couldn’t tell anyone at all. 

The sheriff had even requested to speak to Derek for a moment, to the confusion of both Stiles and Derek. To their surprise, Noah had thanked the man, hinting at the conclusion he’d no doubt drawn. It was obvious to anyone who knew about werewolves. There was a dead body and Stiles needed help, it was clear the wolf did what was necessary to protect his pack. 

Over time, the shock faded and the anxieties lessened. His bruises healed. He still cringed away from loud noises and only just barely increased his serving sizes again, but he was slowly improving. 

Derek helped him through a lot, with unfailing patience and constant understanding. 

He’d finally gotten a therapist, one who was aware of the supernatural, it was a start to working through all of his _many_ pushed down issues. 

When things were better, they went on their date. It was everything Stiles had ever wanted it to be. It was new and nerve-racking, but familiar and calming. He couldn’t ask for anything better. 

It was perfect. And so was every date after.

Stiles never did get around to moving out. By the time he was capable of being on his own again, there seemed to be no reason to leave. 

And Derek was more than happy about Stiles staying.

He’d found the love he’d always wanted. And with the help of the pack’s frequent reassurances, he knew he was cared for and he deserved the happiness that he had.


End file.
